Of Love-- A Collection
by YunaBrown
Summary: Love is a fickle thing, and so as our hearts. A oneshot collection of love stories, what might have beens, and maybe- possibly- happy endings. 2nd story uploaded. PoT/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, hello there! :)**

I know I should be updating my stories but yeah- I've been suffering from a terrible, terrible block.

I wrote this piece a long time ago and so I decided to post it. This is actually a part of one of the stories of mine (**All The Things That We Could Be**)- more of like a future-take on that one.

Tell me guys what you think about it.

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**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.**

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_ThirdTimeIsTheCharm_

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_-December 16, present year Thursday 5:15 p.m.—_

The room suddenly became too stifling; the air is choking her, making it harder to breathe.

Amika stared at the guy—no, _man_—in front of her, smile frozen, words stuck in her throat. Everything around her seemed to disappear, the people she had been greeting and talking to earlier became distant, fuzzy memories in her mind. She can only see him, hear him, _feel _him. Only him: Tezuka Kunimitsu.

"Amika." He called out to her, his voice is strangely silky. Warm. Reminiscing.

And her whole world came crashing back to her; the impact is too strong that she felt she was drowning. Falling into a deep abyss of what she calls her memories.

._  
_

_-13 years ago, February 14, Valentine's Day—_

_Amika nervously fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as her light-brown eyes flickered to the gates of Seishun Gakuen, or Seigaku, every five seconds or so. School ended hours ago, but she knows that the person she's been waiting for has club duties so he most probably stayed to fulfill them. A soft smile formed in her lips. Tezuka Kunimitsu, the captain of Seigaku tennis club, the one who brought pride and honor to their school, the Student Council president, a nationally-ranked tennis player, a born-leader, and the keeper of her heart._

_She met him not a year ago, when she first came to Seigaku for her junior high school with her twin sister, Choharu. She was excited to try-out for the female tennis team that was headed by her older sister Kisana, and so she didn't wait for Choharu and instead head down to the tennis courts on her own._

_She ended up apologizing while bowing her head repeatedly as she entered the male tennis courts (nobody was there when she arrived, so she didn't know). And while the other males were looking at her with blushes on their faces and saying that it was okay, Tezuka Kunimitsu ordered her to leave the courts immediately, as she was disrupting their practice. She remembered blushing and stammering a nervous apology._

_She was elected the freshman representative, and as she found out later, she has to work closely with the President. She started looking forward to their weekend meetings. Her heart would always beat a little faster and her face would grow a little warmer every time she sits across him on meetings._

_She fell for him completely when he complimented her tennis._

_"Are you giving chocolates tomorrow?" Kisana asked her and Choharu yesterday. Choharu scoffed and continued doing her home works. She blushed, making Kisana smile, but she detected a worried glint in her sister's dark-brown eyes._

_"Do you plan on giving Tezuka-san some chocolates tomorrow Amika?"_

_She mumbled something under her breath. Kisana smiled; Choharu ignored both of them._

_So now, she's waiting patiently for him to walk out of the gates, as her hand twitched nervously behind her; the wrapped package clutched tightly between them._

_She jumped a little when the sound of footsteps neared her; her wide eyes stared at the three approaching figures. Her heart beat quickened when Fuji-senpai trained his open azure-blue eyes at her, his smile grew a tad wider._

_"Amika-chan," the Tensai called out to her softly, but enough to catch Tezuka's attention, "are you waiting for someone?"_

_She felt her face grew warmer, and Fuji-senpai's smile turned into a knowing smirk. He turned to Oishi-senpai._

_"Saa…Oishi, I think I forgot something in the clubroom. Will you come with me to retrieve it?" he didn't wait for a response as he dragged the bewildered vice-captain with him. Tezuka merely looked at the two blankly._

_And then he was suddenly looking at her. _

_She willed herself not to wilt under his scrutiny. "Tezuka-san."_

_"Hn. Kurosu-san, is there something you need?"_

_She gulped, mentally debating on whether she should give it to him or not._

_He waited patiently, for her or for his team mates, she isn't sure. But as they stood there face to face, she reminded herself of her purpose, of why she refused to tag along her other team mates and spend the rest of the day together, and of why she stayed late last night crafting a simple piece of candy to be given to this magnificent person standing in front of her. She lifted her eyes to look at him. Drawing a deep breath, she smiled at him and thrusted her hands towards him, offering the simple gift._

_"Happy Valentine's Tezuka-san!" _

_She waited for a reply, rejection or acceptance, a grunt, anything._

_But nothing came. _

_She always knew that Tezuka Kunimitsu is way out of her league. He is perfect, in every single way. And a simple girl like her couldn't possibly be worthy of his affection, or even attention._

_"I'm sorry."_

_It was only two words, two simple words, uttered in a perfectly calm voice meant to lighten its effect._

_But it darkened her world, dangerously tittering out of its axis; like powerful waves crashing her and drowning her._

_She almost chokes on her own words when she tried to speak, and she kicked herself mentally for it._

_"It's okay Tezuka-san!" she tried, tried to smile, hiding the tears that are threatening to spill out of her eyes, "You don't have to say sorry!"_

_She can see Fuji-senpai and Oishi-senpai walking back towards them, and she realizes that it is time to leave._

_"So, I guess I'll see you at the next meeting?" he nodded slowly at her. Her smile stayed. "Right. See you then!" she bowed and turned on her heel. She walked in a normal pace, but it gradually quicken when she turned a corner. She broke into a run as tears came falling down like rain in her cheeks._

_That night, Kisana held her and patted her back until she was asleep, and Choharu answered all of her home works._

_ ._

_-10 years ago, February 14, Monday afternoon-_

_The bell rung and the students all broke into happy grins and giggles, as girls whispered among themselves and the guys threw hopeful looks to some of the girls._

_She heard her sister sigh beside her. "Stupid Valentine and stupid chocolates."_

_Amika smiled, her fingers brushing the wrapped package in her bag. She has given the male regulars their chocolates, along with some of her classmates. She smiled when she remembered Eiji-kun's and Momo-senpai's expressions when she and Choharu gave them their chocolates earlier this morning. They said that it was one of the best things that the merging of their clubs had brought them. Resha rolled her eyes at them, while Kisana joked about them hurting her feelings. The two male regulars yelped and quickly apologized._

_As the tournament season came closer, the two teams have also become closer. They practiced together, played games after school and on weekends, ate lunch with the rest of their teams (mostly on Fuji-senpai's insistence), and even help each other when they have difficult home works (mostly Momo-senpai and Eiji-senpai with their English, Math or Physics lessons). They grew closer, and her feelings from years ago for one stoic captain resurfaced._

_"Let's go." Choharu suddenly said beside her._

_She followed her sister out of the classroom. She kept her head down while the two of them were walking in the hallways, she can feel the male students looking at them, waiting hopefully for them to give them chocolates. Choharu glared at half of them._

_"I have to attend a meeting," she told Choharu, "so you can go ahead of me."_

_Choharu stared at her, and she felt like a specimen under a microscope. Her sister shrugged and went on her way after throwing her a wave._

_She walked briskly towards the clubroom. Tezuka-san asked to meet her to discuss the possibility of her running for the Student Council Vice-Presidency next year. He had chosen her to fill his post._

_And she has never been happier._

_…"So what is your decision, Amika-san?"_

_She blinked her eyes at him, as her brain tried to process everything that he had spoken from the time they met at the clubroom._

_"Ah…Can I think about it Mitsu-kun?" she asked softly, "this is too much for me as of now." She smiled at him, her eyes searching for any sign of annoyance. _

_She found none._

_He merely sighed and run his fingers in his hair. "Alright. But can you give me your answer at the end of this week?"_

_She nodded. "I will."_

_Tezuka nodded. As he moved to gather the papers on the table, she contemplated on whether to give him the chocolates. She remembered his rejection three years ago. She didn't want to experience the same thing again._

_"Of course he'll accept it Amika!" she remembered Rin-senpai assuring her last week, "I mean, amongst us girls, you're the only one he plays tennis with outside the school. And he lets you call him by his name, and he chose you to be his mixed doubles partner! If he didn't have feelings for you too, I don't know what those mean!"_

_Her team mates nodded their heads encouragingly. But still, Kisana's eyes were doubtful, though she didn't say anything._

_"Are you ready to go?" she heard him ask. She nodded mutely and followed him out of the room._

_They walked in silence, and their footsteps echoed along the deserted hallway. The students have obviously gone home, eager to enjoy the holiday afternoon. She wondered if the guy beside her has any plans, or perhaps, a date. She quelled the pain that struck her chest at the thought._

_They reached the gates of their school in no time, silence still wrapped around them, but it was comfortable; the one she had gotten used to whenever she is with this man. _

_She wondered if he feels the same way too around her._

_One can only wonder._

_"Where are your sisters?" she heard him ask beside her._

_She tilted her head to look at him, answering his question. "Choharu went home already. I am not sure about Kisana though, I think she went out with Fuji-senpai. I heard him ask her to play a game today." She smiled at the thought. Fuji-senpai is clearly determined to reclaim Kisana, and is having a little bit of a hard time about it. But she couldn't really blame him. After all, her sister is a hard person to crack. _

_"Ah." Another silence. _

_She gulped harder this time. Her heart is thumping wildly within her, her palms felt clammy. It's now or never._

_"Ah, Mitsu-kun…" her voice trailed, and she cursed silently._

_He tilted his head at her; his glasses caught the last rays of the sun, highlighting the many shades of lemon brown of his eyes. "Hn?"_

_She smiled softly as she stuck her right hand inside her bag, and pulled out a small deep-brown rectangular box. "Here…Happy Valentine's Day, Mitsu-kun." she mumbled softly as she thrusted the box towards the silent male._

_She watched as the male stared at the box, then to her, and back again. His face remained stoic, eyes blank, lips stretched thinly._

_She refused to drop her eyes to the ground._

_This will be the last time that she'll be able to do this. Her older sister told her that Tezuka will be studying in Germany, and there will be no guarantees that he will go back to Japan, for his father has been promoted to head the branch of the company he was working at there. The tennis team was actually planning on holding a party for him and for the other seniors who will be graduating next month._

_Finally, his lips moved, and her heart shattered. Moisture gathered in her eyes, and her throat suddenly felt as if a tube was forced down on it._

_"I'm sorry, Kurosu-san. I can't accept that."_

_His voice is perfectly calm, devoid of any emotion, like the way it was the first time._

_She nodded, as her eyes dropped to the ground at the same time her hand did. She balled her fist on her side, and stubbornly held the tears at bay. She was half-expecting his rejection, but why does it has to hurt like this? _

_She knew she should have listened to Choharu._

_Was it something that she lacked? She knew she isn't as beautiful as Kisana, or Miyuki-senpai._

_Was it because she is not as smart as Choharu?_

_Or maybe because she is not as interesting as Sairi-chan or Hina-chan?_

_Or maybe…_

_She lifted her eyes and studied him. He was staring at her with unblinking eyes. She stared back imploringly, eyes silently asking a question. _

_"Do you have someone you like Mitsu-kun?" she just has to know._

_He blinked, and his face showed a hint of surprise, as if he wasn't expecting the question._

_And at that moment, she knew._

_It's not her. It's not __**her**__._

_She smiled at him, heart shattering into million tiny pieces._

_"I see." She nodded to herself. Noticing his still a-little-bit-surprised expression, she offered him a half-grin; eyes closed to hide the tears, and took his hand in hers. She put the box in them._

_"Well, this chocolate is for you, and I've already given the others their chocolate, so…" she trailed off, and closed his rather cold and stiff fingers over the box, "please accept this as a token of my friendship."_

_Her trembling fingers lingered for a few seconds there…just a little bit more._

_He has always been unreachable, for her, that is. He is that distant star she would always seek out at night._

_Shining brightly, out of her reach._

_Maybe, maybe it's time to let go of him. It's just sad, she mused. She's letting go of him though he's never been hers to start with._

_She let go of his hand after a few seconds, stepping back, she bowed her head._

_"Arigatou, Tezuka-san." Straightening up, she smiled at him once again and turned on her heel._

_It was inevitable, she thought wryly. There will never be a love story between the two of them._

_He's leaving, and she's staying. _

_He's that star in the night sky; she has always been referred to as the sun shining brightly._

_He's Tezuka Kunimitsu, the one the world is waiting to stake his claim._

_She's Amika Kurosu, the one who has never figured out where she fits in this world._

_There has never been a more imperfect pair._

_ ._

And that was ten years ago.

Ten _long_ years.

She was supposed to be over him. But standing here, seeing his face once again, hearing his voice…

Everything that she has done for the last ten years just seemed to vanish. The promises of not remembering, the telling herself not to let a single memory of him deter her. They're all coming back to her now, with the force of a million tidal waves, destroying her resolve.

She smiled at him. She felt like running away and hiding.

"Tezuka-san," her voice came out a little too breathy for her own liking, "it has been a long time."

He nodded at her, his eyes staring unabashedly at her. "Ah, it has. How have you been Amika?"

She smiled rather wryly. It is a little bit funny, she supposed. He's calling her by her name; she calls him by his last name. Oh, how the times has changed things.

"I've been great, Tezuka-san." She tilted her head to look at the others behind him; all were looking at the two of them with curious eyes. "Hello there, Shusuke-nii!" she waved at the brunette, pasting a bright smile in her face.

She can feel his eyes on her, along with the familiar tingles she felt in her skin whenever he would glance at her. Her eyes returned to him.

He has changed a lot, but yet, some things remained.

Like the line of his shoulders; or his strong jaws, the angles of his face, the strong, aristocratic nose.

Or the hints of lemon-brown and light gold in his eyes, still protected by the same oval-shaped glasses with thin rims.

But…looking at him now and remembering the senior high school student from those years, she felt like she's looking at a different person.

"Amika," her sister's soft voice brought her back to the present. She turned to see Kisana with a smile in her lips, though not reaching her eyes. "Rin-chan and Aki-chan were looking for you. They said something about a promise?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly, "that." She laughed despite herself, "I almost forgot. Gomen, I have to go now before those two went berserk." She threw a smile at him, and then waved at the others before turning and walking towards where the other girls were.

Lemon-brown eyes followed the girl—no, _woman_—until she disappeared from his sight.

Tezuka can still feel that distinct hum in his chest, the pounding of blood in his ears, the shiver down his spine at the sound of her voice.

It has been years, ten long years, to be exact, but she still has the same effect on her. He wondered idly if she still feels the same.

The moment he knew that she would be here tonight, he cancelled every single appointment he had previously and asked (demanded) Fuji to give him the address and an excuse.

The brunette, instead of chuckling at him, only stared at him with those damned piercing eyes of his.

"_Why?"_

The Tensai had asked him. Why would he want to attend the party so bad? Is it because of her? Why?

He remembered not answering.

He also remembered two pairs of dark-brown eyes staring at him ten years ago.

One was looking at him as if he was the most hated person of its owner.

The other one looked at him imploringly, as if reaching down to his very soul, wanting to know the answer to an unasked question. He remembered feeling so vulnerable, and wanting to escape.

And escape he did.

Now, standing at the middle of the room, he can feel the same pair of eyes at his back. But this time, there is no question. Only challenge.

And a promise of a lifetime of regret if he made even a sliver of mistake.

He squared his shoulders, and schooled his features so he at least looks sure of himself, which is the opposite of what he is feeling.

"You know, I never believed her when she told me she was over you."

He turned to look at the one who spoke. Kisana gave him a half-smile, her eyes painfully blank.

"She has never been good at lying." She chuckled, "That has always been her weakness, and strength."

He found himself agreeing.

Dark eyes stilled themselves at him, and he felt that familiar fear once again.

"I don't like it when she cries, Tezuka. You know that, don't you?" it was not a question. It is a threat.

He opened his mouth to answer, but Kisana is already walking towards Fuji.

He watched as his friend brought Kisana to his side in an almost possessive manner: left hand pulling her to his side, the other hand curling around her waist. Like him, Fuji also let Kisana go at one time.

But unlike him, Fuji told her. And Kisana understood, like she always does. There has never been a secret between the two. They never gave promises to each other, but they still ended up together.

Looking around him, he can see his friends with content looks in their faces.

Eiji is talking loudly with Oishi, his arms around his fiancée of two years. Oishi is blissfully happy with his girlfriend. Kaidoh and Momo were the same, while Echizen is slowly but surely re-claiming his place at the young Ryuzaki's heart and life. His friends from the other teams were the same, with either girlfriends or fiancées of their own.

He wondered if he made a mistake from all those years ago.

He never meant to reject her. At that time, all he was thinking was his future, and how his decisions would affect hers. She had a bright future ahead of her, and he didn't want to be the one to obstruct her from fulfilling her dreams. He convinced himself that it was for the best.

And maybe it was, at that time.

She became one of the prominent names in the fashion industry. She has travelled all over the world, charming each and every one in her way. She made the whole world fall in love with her creations, so easily that it scared him.

It scared him in the sense that maybe in one of her travels; she'll find someone who will make her fall in love. The thought robbed him of his sleep for the first few years. But when she remained unattached, his worries were washed away. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, she still loves him.

He is still hoping.

He sighed. The night is still early, maybe he'd find the courage to talk to her later.

The party has wind down, the gifts were given, messages to the newly engaged couple were relayed, and numerous teasing were done.

Some of the guests were already thinking of leaving, to call it a night.

Amika swirled the glass in her glass, watching as the bubbles popped. She has never been fond of alcohol, but for the sake of the occasion, she caved in.

And considering the circumstances, she decided she needed the alcohol to keep her emotions on check.

She watched as Choharu and Atobe waved at some of the leaving guests. She smiled at the thought of creating her twin sister's wedding dress. She already has the design, but she kept it a secret up until now, only Kisana and Ann knew of the basic design. The two promised to keep the secret.

She sighed deeply. Choharu's and Atobe's engagement has long been overdue, in her opinion. The two should have been married ages ago. She was actually expecting for Atobe to pop the question after their graduation in high school, but the Hyotei king had let Choharu finish her college degree, to establish herself in her chosen field, and to enjoy life to her heart's content.

She never thought Atobe to be as patient. But as Yuushi-san had commented, Atobe can be anything and everything if only to make Choharu happy.

She couldn't help but feel a tiny, little twinge of envy.

Her eyes went to her older sister, who is currently talking to Fuji-nii in low tones, as if sharing a secret. Another example of a perfect love story.

Why couldn't she have that? Why couldn't she have someone who would hold her as if she's the most precious thing in the world? Someone who will gaze at her as if she's the only one in the world whom he can see? Someone who would be anything and everything for her happiness?

She let a chuckle escape her. The alcohol is already making her think of things that she has long given up.

"Is there something funny over there Amika?"

Startled, she turned her head towards the deep voice. Her eyes widened a little.

"You were chuckling," he added at her surprised look. He stood awkwardly at the railing, a little too close for her comfort. She can feel his warmth.

Rubbing her arms unconsciously, she tugged at her hair and looked somewhere below. "It was just a thought, Tezuka-san." She murmured.

"Hn."

A silence enveloped them. In the far corner of her mind, she remembered all those times when she enjoyed being this near to him. Does he remember them too?

"Congratulations by the way."

"Huh?" she asked him.

"On your fashion show. I heard it was a huge success." _I was there_.

She smiled. "Ah. Thank you." _I wish you were there._

He let his eyes linger on her face. She is beautiful, as she'd always been.

"How long will you be staying here?" _Can you stay here forever?_

She shrugged. "I'm not sure." _I wish I can stay here forever._ "I'll be busy for the wedding, and I wanted to spend time with Syaoran." _I wonder if I can spend some time with you._ She shook her head mentally at the thought.

"I see." He looked below him, his eyes catching Fuji's from below. He knows why the Tensai is looking at him like that.

Amika sighed deeply. The night is almost over. She promised herself that after tonight, she will go out of her way to avoid him as much as possible. She couldn't bear to let herself fall once again. Twice is enough.

She was about to turn and walk back to the room when she felt him move. Her breath hitched when he brushed some strands of her hair away from her face. She trembled at the touch.

Tezuka couldn't help himself. Her hair looked so soft that he has just to touch it. He felt her tremble when he brushed them aside, his fingers lingering on her cheeks a tad longer than he had intended. Her eyes widened, and then fluttered close. She drew a sharp breath.

Amika opened her eyes, her chest constricting painfully. Why does he have to do that? And why is she reacting to him like that?

"Tezuka-san…" her voice trailed off, a lump forming in her throat. "I have to go now." She refused to look in his eyes. It's just too much.

Tezuka dropped his hand, but didn't move from where he is standing, effectively blocking her way. He probably shouldn't be doing this, but he knows that after tonight, he may not find the appropriate time and reason to see her once again. If he fails tonight, then so be it. But he will not let go of this opportunity. He has waited long enough.

They both have waited long enough.

"Are you free tomorrow?" The first step is always the hardest.

She blinked her eyes at him. "Huh?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

No answer. He felt his heart drop a little. "Do you have any free time this week?" Maybe a different approach is better suited.

Amika felt her heart give a lurch. "I…" Her heart has been broken twice by him. Can she trust him once more?

He may have lost his chance long time ago. He tugged at his collar nervously.

Her eyes followed his movements, and then widened when she saw the chain hanging from his neck. _He kept it?_

Her heart started beating faster; she can feel her face growing warm. Is it too much to hope once more? What if she got hurt once again? Can she bear getting her heart broken by the same person who did before?

"Amika." His voice was warm, like a promise. _Can she trust him?_

Her eyes stilled at him, swirling with emotions. Pain. Distrust. Questions.

He stared at her. His eyes desperately conveying what he feels. Honesty. Sincerity. Asking for another chance. Answers. _Trust me once again._

Maybe, maybe it wouldn't be like it was before. Maybe this time it would be better. Maybe…

Taking a deep breath, she lets go of her doubts. She loves him still, that she couldn't deny. And if loving him means getting hurt more than once or twice, she is ready to accept it. After all, how painful it would be? She has survived before, she can do it again. No matter how many times.

She may have been the biggest masochist who has ever lived.

She smiled at him, and with trembling voice, answered "Hai. I'm free, Tezuka-kun."

His eyes widened a little, as if what he heard wasn't what he was expecting.

He was about to open his mouth to say something when a semi-frantic voice called out to them. He didn't want to go; he wanted to stay and listen to her voice. But as he stared in her eyes, he can see the same look she would always give him ten years ago—the one that always takes his breath away and make his heart hammer in his chest.

The one saying that she's not going anywhere. It was enough for him—for now.

"Ah. I'm glad."

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**Well. Good? Bad? Leave a Review, perhaps? Hahahaha**

**Hopefully I can recover from this massive block so I can update The Complex and my other stories. Here's to hoping!**

**XXD YUNA**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_** Well, what can I say? There I was, trying to update The Complex, and then all of a sudden, my mind went on a different curve than what I wanted it to take. Few hours and sad love songs after, and this is what I had. Sigh. So sorry guys.

Anyway, I have decided to have my own one-shots collection for PoT. Female characters are from my other story (which is also in hiatus).

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**_2. You'll Never Know What You Have Until It's Gone_**

* * *

They say you'll never know how much something means to you, until you lose it.

It wasn't the same for him— he did know how much she meant to him, but still, he has let her go.

And until now, he is still asking himself why.

* * *

The party— the one that he was forced to go because of his nosy ex-team mates who clearly don't understand the meaning of _no_— was held in a magnificent ballroom of a clubhouse that he can only guess Atobe owns.

It was a party held in honor of the newly engaged Monkey King and his longtime girlfriend, Choharu Kurosu.

Of course, he didn't want to go, especially after hearing the names of the people who will undoubtedly be present for the said extravagant gathering.

But who could ever refuse the Tensai that is Fuji Shusuke?

And so he found himself clad in his black and silver ensemble, driving his red Porsche to the clubhouse, and sitting beside and around people he hasn't seen for the longest time.

Not that he is counting the years— but admittedly, it had been close to five years since he last saw most of them.

He was sitting there, sipping from a flute red wine that reminded him memories he was trying to forget, when a voice at the back of his mind forced him to turn around, eyes searching unknowingly.

He knew he shouldn't have heed that taunting voice that prompted him, but there's nothing he could do anymore.

His hands closing in around the clear, cold glass, his eyes sought hers— and something inside of him soared and died at what he'd seen.

* * *

He saw her—smiling, hands held by another pair of smooth palms. Her eyes are laughing, her skin is like incandescence—she's so beautiful, so pure…so _free._

Free of him—free from his grip. Free from the love that has bound her to him for God knows how long. She is finally happy—j_ust how he wanted her to be._

And here he is, sitting at a table that looks exactly the same one they've sat so many times before—in front of him a glass of wine, bubbling under the gloomy lights above him.

Taking a gulp of his wine, he looked around him.

His friends from middle and high school are here—team mates and rivals alike mingling as if they've been friends ever since none can remember. Around him he can hear laughter—tinkling and chiming like bells that he has long forgotten the sound of. It has been way too long since he has heard such sounds—for he's been around too many fake, cold people that don't know the warmth of day, of friendship and companionship.

The whole place is alive, pulsing with an excitement that even he can feel in his skin. This is something far too different from the gatherings (his mother calls them 'wild parties') he'd been ever since he turned the tennis world upside down.

This party is—intimate, something that is new for him. Something that he realized he prefers.

There are no flashing lights as cameras zeroed in on him, trying to see even the tiniest details of what he is doing. There are no nosy reporters trying to sniff any unfavorable something about him for money, no females dressed in slinky and skimpy outfits winking and clinging at him.

Here, he felt normal. He felt like a person, a human being, not the tennis God everybody had been gushing about.

It's been way too long since he felt like this...somewhat alive, somewhat human.

And he is glad that he came, despite the fact that she is here as well—_with another man. _

A man he didn't know, a man he heard was the one who brought back the glow in her eyes and smile on her lips—_the man that he will never be._

Gulping another sip of his wine as if intent on drowning the bile taste on his tongue, his eyes went around—refusing to fall on her and him— refusing to acknowledge the fact that the girl—no, _woman_ he'd been thinking since he left this country has someone else now.

He didn't know before he could hurt like this—he had scoffed at his sempais back in high school at times like these.

If only he knew then—

Suddenly his ears caught the sound of her soft giggle—so much unlike of her shy, gentle one back in their middle school years—and he couldn't help himself but to turn around to look at her laughing with her eyes brightly shining like the stars outside.

And his chest once more had that unmistakable pinch of regret.

How much had she changed?—he wondered, mulling thoughts in his head as a drop of red liquid that escaped his lips from an earlier sip makes its way down the clear glass to his fingers wrapped around the stem of the flute.

She tipped her own champagne to her lips—pink, soft lips that uttered his name with so much fondness his chest constricts every time he remember her.

And he remembers a lot about her—_it seemed she's all he can ever remember._

He remembered how she would always giggle nervously at him, saying things about how much wine he's had whenever they go out, and that he shouldn't have another because he'll be driving both of them home, that she wouldn't want him to have hang-over the next day…

And he would always smirk at her, saying that he will never, ever get drunk of the light alcohol.

And she would smile at him, shake her head slowly, and lets him be.

It still haunts him, every single time he picks up a glass and tips it into his waiting lips—the way she looked that night with the lights hitting her hair and making a halo of golden, brown and red that is both exotic and perfect on her cream of skin.

He would think of the taste of wine on her lips—sweet and just a tinge of citrus and something suspiciously honey…or was that strawberry?

He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips as he nodded at a joke thrown to him by one of his former team mates—his eyes lingered on her, before regarding one of his many friends (r_ivals,_ he called them then)—this one wearing a knowing smile and with a glint of something in his cerulean eyes that he doesn't want to acknowledge at the moment.

But he knew that all the other people around him right now knows—there is no escaping such people…people he'd spent years before he conquered the world like the prodigy that he is.

—they know of why his eyes came alive when he saw her, of why his steps seem to have become alive and has acquired a spring to them as he meets her halfway, of why his voice was warm and gentle and all things it was not when said her name in an almost a whisper.

"_It's been years…"_ she greeted him earlier, a small, sweet smile in her lips—one that didn't reach her eyes. "_It's good to see you again."_

He wanted to say that yes, it had been years and yes, it was good—_even better than good_—to see her again.

She nodded at him afterwards, before sauntering to the waiting arms of her…_date._

He crushed the invitation that was on his hands, eyes burning holes at the unsuspecting male.

And he told himself he isn't jealous…he is not. After all, why would he, after all this time?

Years—years have gone by, and he told himself and everybody else who have cared to listen that he is over her. That he doesn't think of her like that anymore, that he has forgotten how soft and smooth and warm her skin against his is…how he would always smile upon seeing her eyes light up at the same time her cheeks flamed…

How his heart has always been for her, how her love is the only thing he has ever wanted for all this time. How he thinks he is the single, stupidest person in this whole, wide world for letting her go.

He's travelled half of the world, seen many faces day in and day out—he's held warm skin to touch and cold hearts, he's seen fiery eyes without warmth, he's felt hot air behind his ears without affection.

Too many times he had been with too many countless women, but a single, vivid memory of laughing eyes and honeyed voice and warm, warm touch lingered at the back of his mind.

It haunted him, darting through hollowed corners of his mind—taunting him, making him lose sleep countless of nights.

He knew it belonged to her—only her. She's the only one he has allowed to creep into his defenses like the ghost that she is. The only one who can make him regret, laugh, hurt, proud, love…and feel loved.

Loved…

She loved him…far too much, their friends said—and he said before that she should, for he does love her…still.

He loves her still.

Gripping the glass in his hand, his eyes traced the curve of her neck as she throws her head back for a laugh, following her movements like a starving man—like a wonder he has never seen before, though the image is printed and burning at the deepest recesses of his mind.

He loves her still, yes—he does. The realization came to him like a fleeting breeze of wind, but with the impact of a howling storm.

He does, and he knows that he loves her still—even when he told her then that she wasn't the one for him, that he thinks both of them can do so much better.

The feel of her tears as her sobs rack her small frame remained fresh in his lids—he has never forgotten how she has taken his cruelty with gentle, adoring eyes, and a broken heart.

He was cruel then, and cruel men like him deserve to be pained and hurt the way he is right now.

If only he can accept that.

It would be easy, he told himself as he watched the two of them take on the middle of the dance floor, a sweet, melancholic music filling the wide, spacious hall.

_His hands on her, her eyes on him—_

A hush fell as the people around them stopped and stared—as if they are seeing something they've never seen before, as if every single one of them is thinking that this is something that she deserves.

It hurts somewhere in his chest to think so...but he knew that what they are thinking is something that he has just to accept.

No matter how much he doesn't want to admit that the two looked good together…_you two looked so perfect!_

No matter how much he doesn't want to admit that _he_—that other man holding her—could be the one for her…_she deserves only the best, and you are the best, so…_

No matter how much he knows it would hurt to live in denial, he doesn't want to admit that he—the coward that he is—is afraid that this other man can indeed make her so happy she will all but forget all about the others—all about _them._

_I know she's still in love with you._

Her eyes are only for him- the man in front of her, loving...affection abound in those chocolate-orbs that haunted his cold, hard heart.

_She's waiting, you know._

_She'll always wait for you that it hurts me to see her hurting._

Three...Four, five years...until how long can she wait? —He had asked himself too many times.

And it would seemed that no, she can't wait for that long.

- _She's hurting._

That voice- it haunted him, echoing through years he remembered it- along with the tears that was streaming down pale cheeks.

He was hurting her then...and she is hurting him now without even knowing it.

_I will wait for you._

_Always._

Her soft promise echoed through him, burning his eyes to dark-gold, his hands shaking, the urge to throw something too strong for him to ignore and stop.

He wanted to shout- to ask her why...why did she stop waiting...why did she fall out of love with him.

Why-

The questions swirling around his head, he took two steps forward...and three steps back.

The look in her eyes—that look of pure happiness— it tore painfully through him. Choking, and nodding at her, witnessing how her eyes and lips spoke of something he didn't want to hear, as she tilted her face to look up at another pair of eyes...

The two of them under the lights, the music still playing like the sound of a thousand knives stringing his heart into pieces— their eyes only seeing each other, their hands holding the other as if not letting go, another realization struck him that had a far stronger impact than the shaking of the earth.

_Her eyes burning with love, hot breath fanning his cheek, her soft lips trailing kisses down the skin of his jaw..._

He clenched his jaw, along with his fists, shaking as his eyes shut close and a heavy sigh leaving him.

"Ryoma," he heard a soft voice that is recognizable even through this haze, "are you alright?"

Shoving a hand on his pockets, he shrugged, eyes still shut closed— he doesn't want to see them.

He felt the glass being taken away from him, leaving his hand empty— _like the center of his chest._ "She is happy now, Ryoma."

Ryoma _doesn't_ need to hear that. "Hn."

A soft chuckle, and then a pat on his shoulder, his sempai left him.

He doesn't need to hear that. He didn't want to hear that from anyone— not Fuji-sempai, not Osakada, not even _her_.

_Because he doesn't want to admit that he, Echizen Ryoma, had really already lost Sakuno Ryuzaki._

Sparing the pair one last glance, he turned his back on them, his eyes blocked by his hair, his feet a thud soft on the floor while his heart is heavy as he heads to the door— for his escape.

His chuckle was drowned by the upbeat of drums and guitars as another dance music started. Inside, people have graced the dance floor, flooding the space with laughter and movement.

He stepped out of the door just as everything was swallowed by the music.

Looking up at the night sky, he lets a sigh escape him.

Escape— he's good at that. Back then, he left without so much as a backward glance. He left her, escaped from her, from the love he thought would imprison him and bind him to nothingness—

And right now, he is ready to do the same— escape, run away from the reality that he came back for nothing.

He came back from years of hiding in front of his so-called career, his fame clouding what he really wanted, what he dreamt of.

He never even thought of this— that he will be greeted of not her smile, but rather, her happiness in someone else's arms.

He said then to himself that he wanted her to be happy— _with me_ went unsaid, because he believed she will only be happy if only she is by his side.

With him, she will be the happiest— that's what he thought. But now—

Stopping in front of his car— _glowing red in the dark like her hair spread out in clean sheets_— he pulled out his hand from his pocket, clutched inside it a small, black box.

_Finally made up your mind, seshounen?_

_Took you long enough.- Smirk-_

Yes, it did take him long enough— _too long it would seem._

* * *

They say you won't know what you have until it's gone, but the truth is, Echizen Ryoma knew what he had back then.

It's just only now that he realizes that he can really lose her, and that he may never have her back again.

* * *

_**Read. Review?**_


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